


We Are Alive (Rewritten)

by Misfit_Meraki



Category: Detroit: Become Human
Genre: Angst, Bickering, Character Redemption, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Medicine, Minor Character Death, Other, Post canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Connor, Protective Hank Anderson, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:08:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22073782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misfit_Meraki/pseuds/Misfit_Meraki
Summary: It all sounded too good to be true.A drug to end all illness, one originally meant for a life crippling and fatal disease could now cure anyone.Everything could be perfect, finally, immortality was in sight.Or so they had thought...
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Miracle Drug

**Author's Note:**

> Rewrite: I plan on adding WAY more to this story since I’m no longer new to writing and am now familiar with proper flow and spacing of chapters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is wrong with this new “miracle drug.” Hank can feel it.
> 
> And Hank is never wrong about his hunches.

*****

Day 0

*****

It had been a cool December night, only a light drift of snow carried across the large city of Detroit, looking much more like sparkles than flakes in the gleaming streetlights.

Hank lays spread on the couch, watching TV. He occasionally flips to the news, being in great interest of a new medication rumored by many to be released to the public. Connor stands in the kitchen, feeling the warm heat drift past him from the vents. Hanks Saint Bernard, Sumo, lays at his feet, deeply asleep. He carefully scrubs each plate, still reveling in the satisfying sensation of the soapy suds. Cleaning truly had been something he enjoyed.

Hank hadn’t liked his fascination and perfectionism at first. When Connor had moved in, the house was more than a pigsty. Hank had been embarrassed and tried his best but Connor wanted to be an asset to his new living space. After much convincing that it wasn’t his “programming,” Hank relented, letting him do menial tasks to keep him busy.

It was like this with many things at first. Connor wanted to work, but Hank was concerned for his purpose, for his real passion. Connor, stubbornly, of course, refuted the idea of being stuck in his programming and managed to become a detective at the precinct. It had been almost a year since he'd moved in, gotten a job, and better developed his relationship with Hank. Things were well. 

Or so he thought…

*****

“Con, come get a load of this.” Hank beckons.

Connor finishes scrubbing the lightly chipped plate, taking a moment to rinse it and place it in the dish tray before sparing a glance to the dog at his feet. He carefully maneuvers himself around the mutt without disturbing him, walking into the living room with a dish towel in his hands. 

_ ”-Finally, after decades of research, a cure for cancer has been found and will be dispersed worldwide in large sums across major cities.” _

“Real strange way of talking about it, huh?” Hank asks. “Not very “scientific”” 

Connor watched carefully as the reporter explained the situation in what he assumed to be low detail, heavily encouraging others to not worry about the side effects and price of the medication and instead transitioned to the scientists behind the exclaimed “miracle drug” before any questions could be asked. 

_ ”What we have worked on is more than just a cancer-curing mist as the media is describing, it’s a drug that seems to cure all kinds of sickness. It managed to cure common colds to practical organ failure. This is more than just a medicine, this is our future. This is a step towards immortality.” _

“Jesus I can’t believe this.” Hank shakes his head in disbelief. “Only took the bastards seventy years. And yet even after all that time they advertise it like it’s some… Newfangled toy.” 

Connors LED cycles as he quickly scans over articles researching the medication, all results proving to be effective and safe.

Hank appeared to be in a state of distaste, sipping his beer, (his only allotted one of the night) and sighed.

Connor knows Hank had always hated people, he himself bore a rather introverted personality, yet somehow this all seemed peculiar. Wasn’t this supposed to be a good thing? He supposes this isn’t really about just people, this was about everything, about advancement. He remains conflicted as he finally allows himself to sit on the couch, letting the slightly damp hand towel rest on his thigh.

_ ”The drug is administered through shots in low doses. After a few weeks people whom once exhibited signs of illness should slowly return to a healthy state after a few visits-” _

“There’s no way it can be that simple-“ Hank finally says, interrupting the interview. “It can’t just be “oh, you’re sick? Take a fucking pill and shove this needle in your arm!” It’s gotta be bullshit. I mean, look at the price, it’s gotta be a scam for the rich at this point.” 

Connor feels a strange irritation in himself as he looks to the Lieutenant, like an itch under the plastic molding of his body. 

“Hank, I don’t really see the issue. Cancer research is one of the most highly funded programs in the US and after nearly six decades humanity is successful with taking advantage of modern medicine and curing the seemingly incurable. Why does this bother you?” 

He shakes his head, expression falling. “It’s- it’s not about that. Shit, I’m glad people can stop dying over dumb shit like cancer. It’s just…” he looks away for a moment as he clears his throat. “I don’t like how it’s being advertised like it’s some fucking new fancy all in one soap. It’s a drug, not just some product to cure everything. There’s no way it can just do that without… Without it being damaging somehow. What if people turn crazy over it? That price? People will do anything to cure someone they love, Con. No matter the price or the aftermath.”

Connor nods as he looks back to the screen which had long transitioned to the night's weather. A storm was coming, or so it said.

“I just don’t trust it.”

Hank pushes himself off the couch and into the kitchen, patting Sumo as he passes. Connor continues to stare at the screen, infatuated by it all. 

There’s no way this could be a bad thing, it’s just advancement.

Right?


	2. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somethings not right, is it Connors scanners or are the dead really standing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s starting and it’s happening faster then people can stop it

*****

Day 1

*****

It had been two weeks since the drug was announced to the world. People all over the nation were excitedly talking about the recovery of loved ones and the miracle it had been to everyone, the news was in a constant buzz for days about it all. 

Finally, it was given a name. Cyclodoctrexate, now nicknamed, or, shortened to,  _ “fixet.” _

People were recovering quickly, it was all seamless. After protests for a lowering of the price eventually the government had made it more accessible than before. It was incredible, sickness was a thing of the past. 

Now it’s different.

The news now was displaying random attacks from people using the drug, (or so they say,) videos of citizens lashing out and appearing much different to the camera than what was to be expected from any healthy person. The users blood temperature would drop and their skin was becoming discolored, almost as if it was slowly rotting of the bone, and dying shortly after. The media’s coverage wasn’t in depth, hiding facts and replacing it with flawed logic, reporting to everyone it was fine, the government working hard to assure that it was all a coincidence, that it wasn’t to be another pandemic.

People are scared and the hospitals are beginning to overfill as the attacks begin to increase.

Lieutenant Anderson and Connor had been on the scene of one of these attacks. 

An android had called the police after passing by the home where he heard screaming and loud noises from inside. 

The home appeared to be average, perhaps a little rundown, but, what else would be expected in Detroit? It looked very pleasing to the eye. It was almost hard to believe such a nice suburban home could hold what it did inside.

When he walks in he notices the body immediately. The woman had her neck almost completely torn open, teeth marks covering her entire throat and collarbone, blood caking the floor with the assailant laid close by her, his arm laying over her chest in an almost inhuman position. 

His skin appeared almost rotten, his eyes open and pure white, teeth bared and face bloody where the woman had tried to fight back. Her thumbs and fingernails had been full of blood, covered in his DNA. Obvious signs of struggle, he deduced that she must have attempted to press her fingers into his sockets in hopes he’d pull back.

He concluded a murder suicide. 

The assault must have happened during a lovers quarrel, he thinks, explaining the loud noises. No… That can’t possibly be correct. The suspect heard only the murder by presumed death time. 

Why were things so scattered in this room? Where is the murder weapon? How did he kill her with just his teeth, had he gone mad? 

Connor continued to scan them both, trying his best to discern what happened and what caused the attacker to die when the woman had obviously been unable to successfully stop him. The woman had very obviously bled to death, her throat and vocal cords hanging out along with flaps of skin that had been torn. The man was just there, lifeless.

Or so he had thought.

Connor carefully went to turn the man, knowing the lack of DNA on his person wouldn’t corrupt the information on the man’s body if he were to be tested. As he did so he watched the man seemingly cough causing the android to fall back. 

Was it a post death spasm? He was dead long enough for the twitching of his dying muscles to cease. 

Connor was just as taken aback as it happened a second time.

He had no pulse, he had no movement before the touch, how was this-

Before he could try to rationalize what was happening the man lunges forward attempting to grab the android by his legs. Connor quickly scrambled to his feet and pulled out his gun. “Sir, y-you’re under arrest for-“

Connor shook his head as the man continued crawling forward and towards him. “Uh- you’re-“

|D E C E A S E D|

Johnson, Lucas 

Height: 5’7” - Weight 187.2

Estimated time of death: 4:57 pm

Connor continued to back away. Something was wrong, but not him. This was a reported death. People were here before him. Confirmed it. His scanner could recognize the features of a dead man. 

Could he have glitched? Did he miscalculate or misread? His scanner hasn’t ever faltered like this. All of that was wrong. The man didn’t speak, just continuing to writhe on the floor as if in great pain, low groans escaping his throat, deep and guttural.

“H-Hank-“ He lowered the gun as his back hit the wall. Even though the undead man was mostly lost of interest he didn’t know what to do.

Did- was he supposed to cough him? What would he tell everyone?

What are you even meant to do when a dead man gets back up?

[STRESS LEVELS: 43%^]

This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

The smell finally hits his sensors. He hadn’t noticed it before but now his clouded mind could only focus on the terrible stench that had filled the room. 

He’s smelled the dead before. That man- 

“Connor what’d ya find? I heard you calling for-what the fuck!?” The android raised attention to the doorway where the Lieutenant stood in shock. The “corpse” again tried to get to his feet, this time he was successful.

With a loud guttural scream he immediately charged Hank who had ungracefully fallen to the ground before he could pull his service weapon from its holster.

“Jesus H. Christ!” He shouted, trying to adjust himself before getting trampled by the man. 

Hank struggles, attempting to pin the arms of the man and failing at his sudden grip and strength.

Connor shakily aims his gun, the bullet burying itself in the undead's shoulder, this giving Hank just enough time to get away.

“H-holy shit!” 

While the man is down, Hank fumbles for his handcuffs, quickly putting them on the writhing “corpse.” 

“God damn!” He says after he manages to cuff him. “God- Christ- I thought he was fucking dead?!” Connor, in a state of shock, slowly lowered his gun, respectively returning it to its casing of the detective's belt. “Are you alright, Hank?” He asks as he attempts to help the older man up only to have his hand swatted away. “I- Jesus, I’m fine, just scared me is all.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Nah, I’m alright kid just… Fuck. The fucker tried to bite me.” His laughs sound more like gasps, “that’s not something that happens every day, eh?” He brushes himself off, seemingly out of breathe. “Jesus, I need like ten fucking drinks. Email Fowler about what just happened. We’re both going home, someone else can fucking deal with that.” He remarks. “Paperwork can wait ‘til morning.” 

Connor feels conflicted, looking back at the scene.

_ Scattered room. No weapon. Dead woman. Undead man. What did it- what was- how could it- _

“Connor!”

Connors rapid eyes flick back to the man in wild succession. The Lieutenant's face softens after his harsh tone. “You comin?” 

“Y-Yes. Of course, Hank.” 

Connor takes in the room one last time before following Hank out the room and past the front door. They begin to walk out of the house, where Gavin had just pulled up. 

“Wow. Nice timing, asshole.” Hank says. Crossing his arms.

“I had shit to do, Anderson, so don’t start on me. Especially with a track record like yours.”

Hank sighs, annoyed, before beginning to walk to his car, Connor in tow.

“Fine, you can deal with the shit inside then, consider it a “thanks for being late and I’m reporting you to Fowler,” gift!” 

Gavin scowls, “Fuck you, Anderson!” 

The Lieutenant doesn’t look back, instead he closes his door to his car, putting a hand to his ear as if he can’t hear before driving off.

They sit in a deafening silence for a moment before Connor speaks up.

“That was rather hypocritical of you, Lieutenant.” 

Hank rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Well, so is him showing up late.” 

“Actually, Detective Reed has a remarkably good history of being on time, there for-“

“Yeah yeah, what the hell ever. Can we just listen to music until we get home? I need some quiet right now.”

Connor leans back in a silent agreement, to which Hank responds with a loud blast of heavy metal, much too loud for his aging ears.

***** 

_ “Hospitals are going on lockdowns after repeated riots taking place in local communities. It is still unknown whether these attacks are pre planned or random acts of aggression but the assailants bear highly similar characteristics as the random attacks taking place all over the United States. More than eighty percent of the cases being confirmed users of the cancer medication, Cyclodoctrexate, seemingly reacting to the new stimulant causing them to lash out through aggressive attacks. The president has decided to make a statement on the recent infection breaking out all throughout the world.” _

Connor watched as Hank wrung his wrist repeatedly. It had swelled up quite a bit after his fall, this began to worry Connor. “Are you alright, Lieutenant?” He asks, looking to the gruff man with soft eyes. “Yeah.” He responds, “just hurtin’ is all. Don’t worry about it, kid.”

_ “After the events taking place all over the country, we recommend that all citizens stay indoors and call local authorities if you suspect anyone is infected. Do not open your doors to anyone and if you are taking any other form of the newly marketed drug stop consumption immediately. We will be broadcasting more information on the matter once we’ve collected a better understanding of the current crisis plaguing our nation. God bless America.” _

“Holy shit.” Connor shakes his head as he realizes what he had truly encountered today. 

Hank runs a tired hand through his hair as he pushes the off button violently before throwing it to the coffee table. “Jesus Christ what a fucking shit show. You’d think we were in a fucking zombie show or some shit. Un-fucking-believable! ‘Knew all that shit was too good to be true.”

Connor couldn’t help but feel a small pit of bitterness knowing that the man had been right. Advancement wasn’t truly advancing anything this time. 

Hank stands and pads past Connor, walking to his room. 

“Lieutenant, it’s still early, are you going to bed already?” Connor questions. 

“Yeah. Too fucking tired for this shit so it’s either I sleep or drink. You’d prefer I sleep instead I’m guessing so that’s what I’m doin.’” 

“Oh… Alright. Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah… Night.” 

Without another word the man’s door closes with a click, leaving Connor alone in the room. His eyes wander to the dog laying beside his feet, snoring loudly and occasionally shifting his position to be more comfortable on the hard wooden floors. Connor checks his internal clock as he watches the dog sleep with curiosity.

|7:34pm|

He sighs. Perhaps he should enter stasis to pass the time? He would have liked to be walking Sumo but after what the news had told him he decided remaining indoors might be best for now.

After a brief internal debate he stands and walks to the garage where his makeshift room was made up for him. Connor took a few minutes to straighten his mattress before calling the tired Saint Bernard to join him, helping the old dog onto the bed.

He eventually lays down once satisfied with the dog's position, staring longingly into the ceiling as he debates powering off for the night as well.

Today was a day he’d least expected to live. His processors could handle a lot of things, but the confusion of seeing a dead man stand was enough to cause the pre-crunched numbers to diminish into a bundle of code that made no sense. 

He had kept up on the news, sure, so he shouldn’t be surprised, but they never mentioned the lack of breath in the infected humans lungs! 

He turns over, though he doesn’t necessarily need to to be comfortable. 

Hopefully this will soon pass.

He takes a deep breath and settles further. 

{ENTER STASIS?}

>YES NO

YES

|ENTERING STASIS IN|

...5

…4 

...3

…2

...1


	3. Stranger Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it’s best not to talk to those you don’t know.

*****

Day 2

*****

Connor was forced out of stasis when he heard a loud clattering outside the side of the house. Sumo lets out a low growl in the kitchen. He checks his clock, knowing it was still much too late for the large Saint Bernard to be roaming, let alone be growling in the living room as if expecting a visitor.

|3:57am|

Connor stands, quickly but quietly making his way over to the door, opening the garage door a little bit wider than Sumo had left it. The dog not hadn’t reacted in the slightest. He observed the animal from the living room. His back was arched and teeth bared. Connor wastes no time grabbing his gun and walking carefully into the kitchen. 

“It’s okay boy… Shh.” He says as quietly as possible to comfort the dog. 

He walks around carefully in the kitchen, shaking down the crevices and possible hiding spots until he comes to the window. He stops when he sees a figure outside. He points the gun only to see that it’s just a woman wobbling haphazardly outside, as if trying to stand. She’s only a drunk, he assumes. 

Before he can put the gun away and prepare to go out and help her she raises from the ground and peers into the window.

“Ma’am?” Connor asks, confused. “Ma’am, do you require assistance in any capacity? It’s unsafe to be outside at the moment.” 

Sumo begins to growl again, getting closer to the window. When he begins to show in her line of sight, she’s shattering the glass and attempting to get in just as quickly as Connor could process what was happening. 

Connor holds the gun out as the woman stands, ready to fire if necessary, dialing the police internally as she crawls on the floor. 

She’s so… Pale. She’s got pieces of skin hanging off her and her eyes a pure and hellish white and strained red.

|D E C E A S E D|

Smith, Debby

Height: 5’3” - Weight 158 lbs

Estimated time of death: 12:01 am

She stands with a groan, her body twitching as she looks at Connor. 

He’s glitching again. She’s not dead. This isn’t right!

“Ma’am, I’ve already called the authorities, it’s best you just leave or stay down to avoid being in any more trouble.” She doesn’t react to him, she instead adjusts herself. Her pupil absent eyes once again reach the dog, causing her to charge. In one swift motion Connor has her on the ground, restraining her with her head to the floor. She thrashes violently, much more force than he’d expect from a woman her size.

Connor is interrupted from thought by the door that suddenly swung open behind him.

“Connor, what the fuck did I say about making shit this early in the morn-“

Before he can step into the kitchens threshold the living room window is being smashed open, another appearingly infected person charging in. Connor pushes the woman’s head down and doesn’t bother scanning the figure before taking the shot, center of their forehead. He wasn’t aiming to “wound” anymore.

“Jesus, what the fuck?!”

Connor continues to restrain the woman, her thrashing only worsening at Hank's voice.

“Hank. I- this isn’t right. These people, they aren’t alive. My scans… These are reported deaths.” 

The woman writhes on the floor, screaming as she tries to move, her teeth bared and oozing saliva onto the tile. Connor goes to move when she pushes him back, causing him to fall harshly to the floor. She quickly attempts to attack the dog, the Lieutenant quickly grabbing the service weapon on the floor and firing, the Saint Bernard getting caked with splatters of the undeads blood, he howls and begins to run back, teeth still ready to bite into the next person he sees in a futile attempt to protect his owners.

Hank huffs out a deep breath as he helps Connor up. “What the fuck. What the actual-“ Connor shushes him, “do you hear that?” Hank turns his head frantically to the back of the house, the sound of pounding heavy on the walls.

“What the fuck do we do?” Hank asks exasperated. Connor shakes his head. “I don’t know. This is the attacks the news has been talking about. A warning just went out to stay in doors and halt evacuations. These break ins are happening everywhere. The phone lines appear to be down, my call to the authorities didn’t go through.”

Hank furrows his brows together in a nervous frown, his expression stuttering. “So, do we just stay here?” 

Another clash, this time in Hanks room, the door pounding, someone slamming harshly on his closed off entrance. Connor takes Hank's weapon off the counter before checking it. 

“We defend ourselves.” 

The door flies open as two of the undead stumble as they crash into the hallway. Before they can dash towards them Connor cocks the gun and fires, hitting them both square between the eyes, they fall heavily to the ground.

“This is fucked!” 

Connor's eyes falter in remorse as he walks to the living room and grabs the dog's leash, putting it on the shaking and hesitant ball of fluff. “Hank, grab what you need, we need to leave.” Hank hesitates before running to his room and grabbing a bag, trying to gather things as quickly as he could.

Connor shoves packets of blue blood and the mini first aid kit into a DPD duffle bag, grabbing cans of food and a small bag of dog food to go with it. Hank does the same, grabbing his revolver, his service weapon, dry food, his phone, and a small picture of his son.

“Hank, come on, we have to go.”

Connor and Hank run outside with the dog in tow, throwing their things into the car as Hank starts it with a quickly, pulling harshly out of the driveway and onto the street, hitting his mailbox as he does, heavily cursing as he continues to abuse the gas pedal.

Hank begins speeding down the road, passing by multiple people being killed and eaten as they do, he tries his best to ignore it knowing they can’t pull over. “Hank, where are you planning on going?” Connor asks as he tries to keep his eyes in his lap, occasionally looking back to check on Sumo. 

“The station. God knows those fuckers need help and we got the evidence room which is designed to be an as needed lock down room. We’ll be safe there.”

Connor nods, his eyes wandering to the chaos outside, dead bodies and undead bodies littering the roads, Connor feels his pump tighten with every person in need they pass.


	4. Who’s There?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank are disappointed to find Detroit’s finest cowering in fear of the undead.

Hank doesn’t even bother parking his car as he swings into a random spot haphazardly, Connor and him practically jump out with the vehicle still moving, running to the building, Connor grabbing the bags and Sumo following closely behind. 

They’re met with a locked door, Hank scuffling in panic as he realizes he forgot his card. While the Lieutenant shuffled through his pocket Connor simply hacks the door, opening it with ease and practically bowing at the now opened entry with an amused eye roll. 

“Not the time, Con.” 

“Apologies, Lieutenant for your incompetencancy.” 

They quickly head in, Connor shutting the door behind him as it clicks and locks. It's quiet and dark. They wander to precincts floor to be met with the same-

“Freeze!” Chris pops up, gun in hand aiming it at the two. He sighs in relief as he sees the two familiar officers and lowers it. “Lieutenant, I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was you.”

Hank steps forward without a thought, walking forward setting his bag on the desk while Connor does the same. Gavin gets up from under his desk. “Chris, do you really think yelling ‘freeze’ at a couple of fuckin’ dead heads is gonna stop them dumb fuckers from tearing your shit up?”

Chris scoffs as he sets the gun down. “What am I supposed to do? Just aim the gun and hope they get on the ground? I can’t just fire either. I’d have killed them if I did on first instinct.” 

“Maybe it would have been for the best.” He says, his eyes wandering to Connor.

Chris shakes his head as Tina peers up. “Quit being a dick, Gavin.”

Fowler came out from around his office and turned on the lights. “Alright you two, shut the fuck up. Swear to god you guys bicker like fuckin’ toddlers. Hank, what the hell are you doing here, you guys alright?” 

Connor can see the Lieutenant suddenly feel a bit embarrassed about the fact that he’s still in his pajamas and standing out like a sore thumb in the precinct full of on edge officers in uniform.

“Bunch of those fuckers broke into my house and tried to eat my dog!” He nearly shouts, “knew we’d be safe here.” 

“Why the fuck are you guys here? Tina and Chris were supposed to be off today.” He gestured to all the cops, almost everyone who worked at the station there aside from a few people. Tina leans back in her chair. “We got called in at about midnight after this shit started happening. Couple of people were out on patrol and responding to the millions of calls we were getting per second.” She looks down for a moment. “A lot of them haven’t responded back…”

Connor scanned the room, Wilson, Nicole, Person, Sanchez, they were all missing. Connor doesn’t have much time to mourn the possible loss before Gavin stands up and starts to circle the two like a shark. “So. Gotta ask…” he peers at Hanks shoulder and arms. “They bite you or the mutt?” 

Connor tilts his head as Hank gives a brief look to his arms. “What? No? What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Gavin let’s out a sarcastic laugh. “Have you not seen the news? The fuckin’ bite is infecting people. That’s why those fuckers are chasing randos on the street.” 

Hank rolls his eyes as he moves Connor to his desk. “Alright smart ass, that’s enough, so, what, the news is broadcasting this shit? People getting eaten alive and that’s what they’re doing?”

Fowler nods as he grabs the remote from his office and turns on the little tv that sits in the precinct.

_ “A terrible outbreak has broken out among all major cities in Michigan, all resulting in level seven and above catastrophe.” _ She’s interrupted with a loud bang and a scream, her voice becoming more rushed as she reports, tears filling her eyes. “ _ People reported dead are now rising back up and attacking anyone with flesh and blood. Please, stay inside, stay with your loved ones, stay with-“ _

The woman is grabbed and bite raw in the neck, the people in the broadcast room screaming as she’s torn apart live on the news, the tv cutting to black.

“Jesus Christ-” Hank rubs a hand down his face. “This can’t be fucking real, what the fuck is this? The Walking Dead?” 

Connor takes a moment to research the show he was referencing. In his search a few shows and games popped up, both having similar plots having to deal with a situation much like the one they’re in, though highly unrealistic in terms of disease and behavior.

“So, what’s the plan? You’re all just hiding out here while the world goes to shit outside?” Connor sits in his desk as the Lieutenant starts to push for answers, obviously stressed from it all. 

“We don’t have much choice, Hank, we don’t have what it takes to take on the shit outside, they’re coming in swarms. We’ll help anyone who comes here but we aren’t risking going outside. There’s a blizzard coming and the fucking dead are wandering and those fuckers are fast. We need to hold out and wait for the military. We help those who seek it, other than that…” 

“Every man for themselves.” Gavin helpfully finishes. 

Hank shakes his head. “No, fuck that!” His voice booms over the bullpen, “we aren’t gonna sit here like a bunch of fuckin’ cowards, Jeff! Me and Connor witnessed god knows how many people dying outside who needed help, we need to get the fuck out there and do something.” 

Connor attempts to interject before Gavin swiftly cuts in. “If you’re so worried go out there yourself then, you said you passed those people instead of helping.” He snickers. 

“You’re no better than us.” 

Hanks face wrinkles in anger. “Listen here you piece of-“

“Lieutenant! That’s enough.” Connor pushes himself up and places a hand on the officers shoulder to get between them. “There isn’t much we can do Hank. The captain is right, it would be wise for us to wait for the military and their instructions before doing anything rash .”

Hank finally slumps his shoulders with a sight

“Alright then. Again, what’s the plan?”

Chris turns his chair and looks up to the old man. “I plan on heading out once it calms down to get home to Naomi and Damien.”

“I’m staying here ‘til it’s safe. I gotta get home to the wife, praying to god she’s okay.” Ben says as he takes a passive bite from his donut. “I ain’t got to much to do until then.”

“I’m staying here. As soon as I can, I'll be out helping, god knows people are gonna need as much help as they can get.” Tina says as she pulls on a hanging strand of her hair.

“I’m most likely gonna stay here, but once I can I’m heading to my apartment. I got shit to grab. Hopefully my cats can make it a few days…” 

People looked surprised at Gavin’s serious answer, expecting him to respond with a sarcastic “fuck you” when everyone turned to him.

“My wife’s going to be heading over here soon, I was able to reach out before this shit happened. I’m staying here with her.” 

Connor nodded as they all answered.

“Alright. So, now all we do…” Connor looks around before his eyes fall back to the floor.

“...Is wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I like Gavin
> 
> Also me: *Makes Gavin a dick unnecessarily*


	5. Impatience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is tired of feeling useless to the hell arising outdoors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short check in on the peeps. Filler chapter mostly.

The snow falls hard and heavy to the earth outside the precincts walls, the wind whipping loudly against the windows. Sometimes screams would over sound it, almost impossibly, the sounds of gunshots outside practically shaking the officers as they attempted to keep their head down. 

Many would risk sacrifice but almost always came out too late. 

The survivors never made it past the fog and into the precinct.

*****

Day 5

*****

They somehow have yet to receive any information from the military or any government figure, the worry creeping in on the office survivors for everyday they are kept in the dark.

Hank managed to find some spare clothing he left in his assigned storage locker, a simple button up black shirt with the jacket he managed to grab before they entered the world of shit. Connor spent his time checking the current state of the country through articles, each day new ones becoming more and more sparse.

Connor stands at his desk, occasionally flipping his coin, hand from hand. Chris sits at his own, staring at a picture he had framed of his wife and child, clicking a pen in his left hand whilst doing so. Gavin taps an indistinguishable rhythm from his pen and onto the counter top.

The precinct was filled with small annoying noises and the rest of the precinct was becoming more antsy at the moment. Feeling uncomfortable with the idea of being useless in the current moment.

They were cops! Fucking cops! They should be out there, saving people. They should be patrolling, and at the very fucking least, looking for their lost officers they still hadn’t managed to contact.

Hank sits under his own station, head in his hands. His son being all he could think of. 

Lord knows he was thankful he was here right now, not during this shit.

_ Tap tap tap _

Cole used to have such a wonderful smile. He would make Hank feel better now if he were here.

_ Clink clink clink _

If- if only he could have more than just this picture.

_ Click click click _

“I can’t fucking take this anymore!” Hank says, standing, hitting his head on the way up. He mutters a few curses before facing the officers.

“Is this all we’re gonna do? Sit with fingers up our asses?” 

_ Clink clink cl- _

Connor stops his coin, looking to the Lieutenant. 

“Hank, we don’t got much of a choice. It’s up to your waist outside. We’ve already gathered our shit, we’ve already made our plans. So unless you got something else to suggest, pipe down.” Fowler says, sighing as he finishes his statement.

“Jesus Jeffrey, were highly decorated officers, not a bunch of cowardly survivors, we should be out helping people! At the least, going out and getting supplies!”

“We have enough for now Hank. We’re lucky the timing was right, we have all those left overs from the Christmas party. We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? And what about those folks screaming outside? What about them, Jeff? Do you think they’d be happy to know we’re here, lying back and thinking of England?” 

“Hank, every survivor we’ve found so far has been bit. We can’t help everyone, just the ones that seek it.” 

“That’s bullshit!” Hank slams his desk for emphasis, waking officer Chen.

“Hank, you’re more than welcome to go outside without a proper coat, but I don’t want you to get injured or worse, if and when we are needed! We can’t waste our energy when it’s not needed! It’s bound to be near the negatives now, we’re safe here. Just… Take a look outside.” 

“We are needed, asswipe! Think of everyone out there! Think of the families, what if it was your wife? Or child? Or mother?” 

“Hank, I’m gonna ignore you cussing me out, but remember your god damn rank! I’m in charge and I say we stay right here!”

Hank raises a finger to argue but Fowler waves him off, urging him towards the window.

“Look.” 

He points to the cars.

“Completely snowed in. The door? Covered in ice. Collins? Still hasn’t come back. He was hell bent on helping Hank. Not even our officers can combat this.” 

Hank sighs, still refusing to accept defeat in any possible capacity. 

“I can’t keep sitting here, Jeff. I can’t knowing others need our help.” 

“I know Hank. You’ve always been like that. But our hands are tied. We can’t get outside, there’s no one asking to be saved. It’s every man for himself now.”

Hank grumbles, fighting back as hard as he can to keep the bubbling argument in his throat. The last thing needed was to get the whole precinct to hate him in a time like this.

“Fine… But next opportunity I’m out there helping.” His eyes turn to Connor, disappointment breaching them completely. 

“With or without everyone.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so short. Just a quick check in on how they are doing on day six.


	6. Behind These Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout always happens after a storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’ve been gone so long!! I’m back and ready to update!

*****

Day 10

*****

The days had come and gone without anymore than a simple argument, and Connor hadn’t been able to discern if that was good or bad for himself and others.

It’s a proven study that the reason time speeds fast is because you’re experiencing almost the exact same experiences day to day, causing your memory capacity to falter, uncontrollably forgetting the menial tasks most humans, and now androids, occupied themselves with. 

It would be strange, he supposed, if humans could remember every little thing like an android could. Hank often forgot many things, but there was few things he wasn’t forgetting now. 

They had accomplished very little to nothing in their time here, and Hank was livid beneath his old skin. Connor was right there with him, frustrated at his lack of service. He was made to protect at his very core, he was made to serve people and be sure that everyone was safe. Now what was he good for? Keeping inventory and coin calibration.

Surely humans felt the same way, but Connor knew this feeling was much stronger to him. It burned him at the very core. Deviant or not he’s never fought that he was made for productivity of some sort. Any sort. 

Hank was always complaining about the cold, Tina talked about her fiancé, Valerie, constantly, and Chris never let up about his son and wife. That seemed to be one of the few things he was used for. A walking therapist with a built in night light. Everyone seemed to push their own worries on to him. He gratefully accepted it, but it wasn’t enough, of course.

At the end of the day, of _each_ day, he felt empty. He felt like he was of no use. No purpose.

“What’s got you stewing, kid?” Hank had asked one day between the slipping of the coin from hand to hand. 

Connors doesn’t immediately engage, instead keeping to himself for a few more moments until he shifts his gaze to the man.

“Nothing of importance.” He replies plainly, continuing his calibration.

“You sure?” 

Was he sure? 

He comes back to one of the worst feats of being an android. Every moment was the same speed. Humans got to move time faster. They got to forget. Connor, however, would always be in the present, never truly feeling like he’s suddenly in some future that came to him quicker than expected.

Humans got to sleep. _Actually_ sleep. Half their fragile lives are dedicated to it. Androids don’t sleep. They go into stasis, a place where they’re aware of the outside world and themselves at all times.

Perhaps that’s better than nightmares, he’s seen what they’ve done to Hank and even Gavin since his arrival, but sometimes he’d rather be fooled by his own head than face his own reality head on. Literally.

“I believe so.” 

Hank looks unsure still, but shrugs, leaning back in his chair again. He isn’t relaxed, but he looks lazier than he had been in the last few days. Perhaps exhaustion was finally getting to him? 

*****

Day 11

*****

He took inventory again. This was his job. He had the best memory therefore it was his responsibility. He was good at keeping track of things.

He repeated that over and over with a subtle pride.

It may not mean much to the others, but the trust given to him since the revolution always made his thirium pulp swell in grateful feelings.

He began to count.

_Three spare light bulbs, six flashlights, three battery packs, twelve articles of spare clothing, two towels, one stack of printed news reports, one pair of shoes, two first aid kits, two fire extinguishers, one bag of dog food-_

He went around the whole building, duly noting the location of every single possible means of protection or necessity. 

He always smiled when he found everything by memory in its place in the station. Organization was one of the few things that pleased him nowadays.

He felt the need to touch each object as he passed it. Sometimes he worried that if he didn’t do so that item would go missing. It was a humanly dumb feeling that neared little to no logic, but he liked to believe that he was merely doing his part.

_One Stapler, one gum packet, two lighter, one gun holster, one dozen and a half case files, one empty pack of cigarettes, two pairs of reading glasses._

Everything was in place. As it should be.

*****

Day 12

*****

Hank was complaining once again about the lack of military advice and or assistance, and Captain Fowler, once again, combated each and every argument with the virtue of “patience.” 

Everyone in the bullpen was sick of hearing it by now. Even Chris, the quiet and level headed man he was, interjected despite his status in hopes of calming the two men. It hadn’t worked of course, but the remaining officers were grateful for his attempts at keeping peace.

Connor isn’t sure how much more of this he could possibly take.

******

Day 13

*****

The days went by in a rhythm. A pattern. Specific. Delicate. 

That’s why it was a surprise when two of their lost officers had come to their door.

Matthias Wilson and his partner Paulette Jones.

They were beaten and bruised to hell, but still walking despite it. They were quickly taken in, greeted and checked for bites. 

Wilson went on and on about the bravery Jones had shown. She had saved them both from an incoming swarm that had managed to move when the storm came to a slower head, pulling the car out just in time to get them moving down a slightly clearer road.

Connor couldn’t help but marvel at the breath of fresh air they brought to the precinct. Finally he could experience at least some level of change. 

It didn’t last long, however. 

_Three spare light bulbs, two flashlights, four articles of spare clothing, one stack of printed news reports, two fire extinguishers-_

Things were missing.

He didn’t want to cause alarm, but when he noticed a specific desk empty, he knew there was no use in being quiet.

“That little bitch!” Gavin yelled, checking over their supplies just to be sure. 

“Did she really take ‘em?” Matthias, asked, his voice unsure and quiet.

“It was either her or dumb and fucking dumber over there!” Gavin shouted, thumbing over to Connor and Hank.

“Woah woah woah, what the fuck makes you think we got anything to do with this?!”

“I don’t know Hank, maybe because your plastic pet was the last one around any of the shit that was stolen!”

“Open your stupid fucking eyes, Reed, Paulette is gone and the shit is missing. Not hard to put two and two together, Detective _.”_

“Well atleast I wasn’t at the brink of losing my rank before this shit hit, _Lieutenant.”_

“Alright! That’s enough! God damn, I’m so sick of you two always fighting each other!” Fowler cuts in, “would it be too much to ask for you two to hold at least some level of professional?!”

“I’ve got about as much professionalism as Hanks got in booze.” 

“Very nasty, Reed, how about I fucking-“

“Stop it!” Tina finally says, surprising everyone as she tears at her hair.

“Gavin! Shut the hell up for a minute and realize that you can’t keep being a bigoted asshole because you’re afraid! Lieutenant, stop getting butt hurt over things that are true and just accept that you’re being overbearing and sensitive because you can’t play hero! Fowler, quit breathing down our necks like children, we’re highly ranked, educated, and decorated police officers! And Chris, I swear to the almighty messiah of heaven that if you don’t stop clicking that pen I will be shoving it up your ass faster than you can say “wow, there’s a pen in my ass!”

Tina falls back into her chair with an exasperated sigh. “God! Buncha children is what y’all are!”

Everyone is taken aback, completely unsure of what to say. 

“Wow. You’re a dick, Teeny.” Gavin finally says, emphasizing her nickname. 

“Yeah. Hah, tell me about it.” 

*****

Day 14

*****

Connor lightly noted the lightly falling snow. It had definitely been letting up these past few days. Now they could only hope it would stop completely soon, taking its white fog away with it.

His eyes fell back to Sumo. He had been sitting and waiting patiently in Hank's chair as the man napped. 

Hank hadn’t been sleeping. No one had, really. Gavin would sometimes be up as long as Connor, especially now with the new level of untrust he carried. But Gavin wasn’t one he cared about currently.

His eyes look to the tired man’s face.

This was his first nap in forty three hours. He smiled at the lighter expression of the Lieutenants features.

He’d been asleep for three hours and thirty three minutes, so it was definitely a surprise for him to jolt up suddenly with such little sleep under his belt.

“Fuck!” He hissed quietly, hoping not to gain attention from the other sleeping officers

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” 

“Fine- Just-“

He stands up suddenly, Sumo tilts his head as he quickly paces to the glass box that was Fowler’s office.

“I need to check something.” 

Connor looks at him confused, but nods when Hank disappears into it.

The last thing Connor sees before the glass fogs in a hand reaching for Hanks shoulders as the Lieutenant brings his own to his face.

*****

Day 15

*****

It finally stopped snowing, which everyone had been grateful for, but this brought a new sense of worry. 

People could now make way to the precinct. As glad as that made Hank, it unnerved Chris and Tina. 

“What If it’s like some tv show where some rival gang comes to steal our shit?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tina. We’ll be fine.” Gavin sayings, spinning in his seat.

“I don’t know. The last time we let people in, we got betrayed by our own officer.” 

“The rookie? Fuck. Paulette was bad news from the start, Chris. Fuck her.”

“That’s my partner you’re talking about.” Wilson calls from his desk.

“Yeah? Well where’s she now, dick head? Oh right- Probably dead in a ditch somewhere with all the shit she stole.”

If Matthias had something to say, he doesn’t. He instead lowers his head back down to his desk.

*****

The last thing they’d been expecting was the opening of the precinct door, but to top that they hadn’t fathomed the greeting of blood of desperate cries for a specific officer of the precinct.

“P-please- someone-“

Connor runs to the door with his gun at the ready, Hank by his side.

The woman was dark skinned, but it was hard to tell at first with the blue tint it held and nearly pale tips it brought. Her arm and leg held a gruesome injury, blood frozen and unfrozen falling to the ground along with chunks of ice and snow. 

She smelled terrible, almost like rotten meat.

“Ma’am, we’re here to help, what-“

“Olivia?!” 

Hank is immediately by her side, trying to help her.

“Con- go- go get Fowler. And hurry.” 

Connor nodded, quickly fetching the man.

*****

Day 16

*****

She had been bitten. 

She had tried to help a man outside their home and before she could help him into the car he grabbed her. She hardly escaped, fighting as best she could only to be torn apart and given a timer. 

The captain had taken her to the basement where he stayed with her for the rest of the night. Connor felt a shiver run down his spine as he remembered the shot go off in the evidence room. Fowler didn’t speak for a few days, though no one blamed him, opting to instead be sure everyone had what they needed, and with Connors persistence on the importance, cleaning any open wounds so the infection couldn’t pass through contact.

Hank tried his best to console the man, but it did very little. 

Fowler still tried to keep a professional outlook, however. He helped when asked and only then, but other than that he remained in his office with the glass fogged, either alone or with one of the officers with him. Typically Hank.

Connor can’t help but feel useless to the whole situation. He hadn’t been much help and there wasn’t much he could have done. However, that didn’t stop him from checking on others while they all remained in a time of need.

It was quiet, all of them thankful the power was still running through the city. The humans had enough to eat thankfully, but not enough to last a lifetime, or even a few more days, but enough for today. That was all that mattered.

Today was all that mattered.


End file.
